


Tag Team

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, M/M Sex, coarse language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Post Sleepless but pre-Duane Barry I have taken artisic liscense and have the two working together for about four months. Young Alex comes over on a Friday night to spend some time with Fox and... You know, slash happens!
Relationships: Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder
Collections: TER/MA





	Tag Team

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).

  
**Tag Team  
by LeFey**

  
Mulder paused before he opened the door. How did he ever get himself roped into this? He didn't even like Krycek. He certainly didn't respect the wet-behind-the- ears, intrusive pup. Mulder shook his head. The damn smile was spreading across his face already. The same smile he fought to hide every time Krycek rolled out one of his over-eager tricks. The kid was such a kick. He had that new shine to him. If there was a 'new car' smell, Krycek had a 'new agent' shine. Mulder was certain that the kid believed that if he just tried hard enough he could make anything happen. And he had made Mulder ask him over on a Friday night. On a Friday night that he would normally have been... well... not doing much of anything. 

Mulder had put up a decent enough fight countering most of the kid's arguments with excuses as to why they couldn't or shouldn't get together. Finally, it had come down to the fact that Mulder just wasn't cynical enough to put him off. The kid's shine must be rubbing off on him.

A muffled knock sounded again. Mulder opened the door to find Krycek standing in the hallway with two large pizza cartons balanced on hands that each held a six-pack of beer. Two large bottles of classic coke rolled across the top of the pizza boxes and were only stopped by the bags of chips perched between the boxes and Krycek's chest.

Mulder stared for a moment, his hand on the doorjamb blocking Krycek's entering.

"You didn't have to bring food," Mulder mumbled, a little stunned by the quantity.

"I haven't eaten," Krycek started but the pop bottles began to roll again. "Would you grab the coke, Mulder?" After Mulder had taken the two bottles away Krycek hitched up the boxes and stood for a minute staring at Mulder who still blocked the door.

"Either you let me in, or you pay for the pizza. And I won't go away without a big tip."

Mulder stepped back and let Krycek walk past him. 

"The kitchen is around the corner," Mulder threw after him as he followed. 

Krycek hadn't come from work. He was dressed in khaki drawstring shorts, an open, short-sleeved blue pinstriped shirt over a blue mesh tank top and he wore running shoes. He looked like he'd just come from... That stopped Mulder. As he watched Krycek put the food on the table, adding bags of M&M's that were stuffed into the deep patch pockets of his shorts, Mulder wasn't certain he could say where this guy had been. It was as disconcerting to see him dressed like this as it was to see all the food he'd brought. He'd just come from some other life, some non-cheap suit, non-bureaucratic drone life that Mulder apparently knew nothing about.

"I didn't know what you liked to drink," Krycek said as he took the two bottles of pop from Mulder and turned towards the refrigerator.

"You bought two pizzas?"

"Yeah," Krycek looked up from the refrigerator where he was putting away the pop and beer. "Looks like a good thing I did. What is it, the day before grocery shopping?" He gave Mulder a knowing smile. "One pizza is pepperoni, Canadian bacon and pineapple. Some people don't like pineapple. The other one has everything on it but pineapple and anchovies." He walked back to the table and handed an unopened beer to Mulder. "That okay?"

"One pizza would have been enough."

"I meant the beer. And one pizza is never enough." He twisted the cap off his own beer and took a long drink, then reached for a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips that were already open. "You see, Mulder, I eat a lot. But you wouldn't know that, because we've never had more than a cup of coffee together."

"It's just never worked out..." Mulder started quickly as he felt a guilty heat rush up his face.

"Don't worry," Krycek said around a mouthful of potato chips. "I'm not here to lay any guilt. Believe it or not?" He grinned and it threatened to break into a laugh. "I actually like being around you."

"Must be a masochist." Mulder smiled back.

"Never officially diagnosed," Krycek said as he looked around. "Any clean plates? Like I said, I haven't eaten."

"Dish drainer."

Krycek retrieved two plates, handing one to Mulder. He loaded his own plate with pizza from both boxes and grabbed an extra beer from the refrigerator before he went into the living room.

Mulder stood with the refrigerator door open, trying to decide whether he wanted pop or the beer Krycek had given him. With either beverage did he want to use a glass? And why did he feel overdressed in jeans and a T- shirt despite the fact that he was barefoot? And just how long could he stand in the kitchen and not go out to join Krycek who was suddenly so shiny Mulder felt a need to wear shades.

"Whoa! That has got to hurt. Yes!"

Mulder jumped at the sudden whoop from Krycek in the other room. The muffled sound of the television grew louder. The roar of some unseen crowd accompanied Krycek's next outburst.

Mulder moved back to the table and scooped up a piece of the pizza that had everything on it. He picked off a few pieces of green pepper and tried to see what Krycek was watching without being caught. The television was in the corner so all he could see was the kid's reaction. There was no need for him to be subtle. Krycek was locked into the image and oblivious to Mulder as he watched him.

"Brick! Brick! Brick!" Krycek chanted as the noise of the crowd increased. "Mulder! Get out here or you'll miss it. He only does 'The Bricklayer' once a match."

Mulder stepped into the room just as Krycek came off the couch with a roar of approval at the action. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Krycek was watching what's jokingly called 'professional' wrestling. 

One steroid poisoned lout was about to dump an equally pumped up opponent to the mat.

"And POW!" Krycek echoed the exploit as the other man hit the mat.

Krycek moved over on the couch, silently asking Mulder to join him. Mulder sat beside him placing his plate and beer on the coffee table in front of them.

"That's The Brick. He's the Intercontinental Champion."

"Why, because he's the flavor of the month?" Mulder let disgust ring in his tone.

Krycek seemed oblivious. "The unconscious guy is..."

"He's not really unconscious," Mulder interrupted.

Krycek turned and gave him an irritated grimace.

"I know that! What? Do you think I'm six? I know it's fake, but it's a good show. God, Mulder!"

"Just Mulder will do," he replied.

Krycek turned to him and laughed. "Yeah, you like to think you're God. What's the matter, you don't watch wrestling?"

Mulder snatched the remote out of the younger man's hand and changed the channel.

"Before you arrived, I was watching Washington Week in Review."

"You poor bastard." Krycek laughed again. "You really don't have a life. You know what they say about guys who need to have control of the remote?"

Mulder could feel heat flash across his cheeks. He bit back the things he wanted to say about wimp losers who get voyeuristic thrills by watching wrestling. He wanted to ask Krycek wasn't it customary not to have a full set of teeth in that land of cousin marriages where he must come from as the kid's toothy grin assaulted him.

"I think the sooner you realize that politics is inherent in what we do..."

"Oh, I watch Washington week," Krycek countered. "I just tape it and watch before I go to bed. Puts me right to sleep. But then someone your age wouldn't have any trouble falling asleep." He picked up his beer and took a long pull. He was fighting a smile as he stole the remote back from Mulder and wrestling appeared once more. 

"You don't watch wrestling at all, Mulder?"

Mulder reached for the remote but Krycek held it just out of reach and smiled that infuriating grin again.

"Let's go into what they say about guests who take over the remote."

"It says the guest has a good host. But you never watch wrestling?"

"Of course not," Mulder sank back into the couch to pout.

"Not even, oh here they come, the women?" Krycek sat forward on the couch as several muscular, scantily clad women made their way through the cheering crowd. 

"They've got some hot babes on this show." He turned towards Mulder and gave him a leering smile. "One Christmas break, when I was at Quantico, a bunch of us went to see the Hard Core Event when it came to DC. It was so good. When you go in person they don't even pretend it's not about sex. They saved the women till nearly the end of the show. Well, there were a few that came out as one of the wrestler's bitc... ah... girls and they were all gorgeous and falling out of whatever they were wearing and teasing that they were going to flash everybody. So, by the time the women came out, we were all out of our minds."

"I think you're out of your mind anyway to watch this trash."

"Don't be such a prissy old woman, Mulder. You're not going to get better jerk off material, anywhere." Krycek stood and picked up his plate. "You want more pizza, beer, M&Ms?"

"I want the remote," he stated flatly.

Krycek tossed it on his lap. "Go ahead; put on William F. Buckley, Jr. on Crossfire. I didn't expect you to be normal. I heard your personal fetish involved anything with Roswell in it somewhere."

Mulder watched him walk to the kitchen and dig into the pizza. He couldn't look away from the long well formed legs or the tight ass that was outlined against the shorts as he bent to pick up a package of candy he'd dropped. Mulder had muted the TV but hadn't changed the channel. The silent image of two women straining against each other for dominance tweaked at an arousal he didn't want to acknowledge. He knew, however, the best defense was a good offense and Krycek had had enough fun at his expense.

Krycek walked back into the living room, his mouth full of pizza. He glanced at the screen, and his eyebrows flashed up with surprise. He took his seat next to Mulder and cleared his mouth with a pull from his beer.

"You hooked?" He asked with a grin.

Mulder hit the mute and the raucous sound of the crowd came up again.

"I didn't want you to think I'm _not normal_ " Mulder said sarcastically. "If this is what passes for normal."

Krycek shrugged and looked back to the TV screen. "I never thought you cared what I thought about anything."

"You're my partner," Mulder blurted out.

Krycek turned to him. The amusement was gone from his eyes. "Scully was your partner. I'm just the rookie you're saddled with." His head swiveled back when the crowd noise surged as one woman pinned the other.

A sly smile moved Krycek's lips. "That brunette is one stone cold bitch. She's so fucking hot." He took a long drink from his beer and sank back into the couch next to Mulder. "There is never enough of the women."

"They're not the point," Mulder said. He was tired of Krycek putting him off balance by alternately making him feel like one of his college buddies talking about sex, then some old man he was visiting out of obligation.

"What?" Krycek asked between mouthfuls of M&Ms.

"The women are just the trappings to make everything appear normal, as you put it."

Mulder pointed at the television as two testosterone polluted-gladiators tried to rip each other's heads off. 

"It's really the homoerotic elements in wrestling that attract so many young men."

Krycek's face squinted into a frown as Mulder's relaxed with a muted smile.

"Sound familiar?" Mulder asked the younger man.

"That's so much bullshit, Mulder. You don't like it, so from high atop your god-Mulder perch you declare it's queer." 

"I'm not saying it. There are hundreds of studies and reports that show a direct correlation between homoeroticism and wrestling."

"Really?" Krycek gave him another one of those smiles that made Mulder want to beat it off his smug face. "Reports and studies, huh?"

Mulder nodded.

"Are those the kind of stroke books you snuggle up with on lonely nights?"

Mulder ground his teeth for a moment but his voice came out sounding surprisingly calm.

"You're the one with the penchant for watching nearly naked men grab at each other. What do you like best, the violence as they substitute their fists for their dicks and beat on, or more to the point off, each other? Or the..."

"I like the athletic ability it takes," Krycek interrupted. "I like to watch them throw each other around the ring. I like to see them do these impossible feats of jumping off the top rope, or taking it as some guy jumps on them because they have the skills to make it look real." Krycek motioned to the screen as one man flew off the ropes and into the forearm of his opponent. Krycek looked back to Mulder. "And I like the show. This is the American dream in short hand. It's all about power, money and sex."

"It's certainly about sex," Mulder agreed as he nodded towards the television.

Krycek turned to see a pair of referees move in on the villain of the piece as he pulled the other, barely conscious, wrestler's arm up between his legs and jerked it as he thrust, giving a passable parody of anal sex.

"I've...I've never seen this before." Krycek stammered.

Mulder smiled, more than pleased with the younger man's discomfort.

"You're the one who said they don't even pretend it's not about sex. I agree with that part, but you're wrong about the American dream. This is like all the rest of television. It's all about promoting white-trash values."

Krycek laughed suddenly and turned towards Mulder leaning close to him on the couch.

"Is that what this is really about? Not the homoerotic elements?" He said the words as a taunt. "You're such a fucking snob, Mulder. Just because the rest of us didn't grow up on Martha's Vineyard with the Kennedys, and attend private prep schools, and go to college at Oxford we're white trash?"

"I was generalizing," Mulder said quickly as he tried to slide down the couch.

Krycek grabbed the remote and killed the sound of the commercial as he scooted closer to Mulder. He tossed the remote on the coffee table and shoved the piece of furniture away with his foot before he turned.

"Well, then I'll generalize a little. You had a lot more opportunity to encounter homoerotic elements than I have. Being poor white trash I never went to one of those swank summer camps where you have a choice of kayaking, water polo or pulling each other's dicks. And what about the hallowed halls of Old Oxford? It's practically a graduation requirement there that you get your balls slammed in a drawer when you and an upper classman play 'the milkmaid and the Nazi'. Stop me when I get to a part that doesn't ring true."

Mulder started to get up, but Krycek grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You ever wrestle, Mulder? Or were you too light in the ass?"

Mulder shoved Krycek's hand away.

"Get the fuck off me, Krycek," he snarled. "Or you're going to find out what I can do."

"Oh yeah?" Krycek kept up the taunting tone. "I'd like to see what your keen awareness of homoerotic elements has taught you."

"Not as much as those two." He pointed at the television, and Krycek turned his gaze to follow.

What Mulder had learned from all his years of privileged education was that surprise often won out over strength.

As soon as Krycek turned, Mulder bowled him off the couch. They struggled for a moment but Mulder easily grabbed Krycek's arm and twisted it up behind his back. Mulder lay across his back. Krycek tried to bridge himself on one hand to throw Mulder off. He was about to succeed when Mulder remembered another old school trick that had been pulled on him.

Mulder snaked his free hand down to the loose fabric of Krycek's shorts as he struggled under him. His fingers darted in to find the crease between his leg and groin and stroked lightly. 

Krycek stilled as the feeling registered. Mulder increased the pressure and raked his fingers across the sensitive area. Krycek bucked then dropped to the floor, trying to stop the tickling.

"Mulder, you prick," he sputtered as laughter was pulled from him.

"Give up!" Mulder urged as he increased the torment.

"No!" Krycek barely got the one word out before he was howling as Mulder found a spot that was unbearable.

With Krycek's arm still held high behind his back Mulder was able to lever him off the floor enough to grab at the leg of the shorts and reach inside. He spidered his fingers up the younger man's thigh till his fingernails scraped against the edge of his briefs and over his hipbone.

Krycek pushed back, trying to avoid the touch that made him jump and writhe. He rolled Mulder over and lay on top of him, still caught and still struggling. He grabbed at Mulder's hand inside his shorts. But instead of trying to pull it away, he only shifted it to the hot hardness under his briefs.

Mulder stopped at the unexpected move. He lay silent, Krycek holding his hand in place, feeling the heat radiate under his fingers.

"What's the matter?" Krycek's voice was breathy and still marked with laughter. He pressed his butt back against Mulder. "Did you come, already?"

Mulder loosened his grip on Krycek's arm and let him roll away. But as soon as he was free, Mulder pushed him to the floor and pinned Krycek's arms over his head.

"Is this why you wanted to come over?" he asked, his own voice husky and determined.

Krycek giggled and moved provocatively under him. "I want to come, I know that much."

Mulder fought the urge to kiss that damn smile off his face as Krycek lay under him, grinning back and bumping against him.

"I'm a senior special agent. I'm your superior..."

"You're my partner," Krycek yelled back at him. "I'm not your lackey, I'm not your errand boy, and I'm sure as hell not the kid you seem to think I am."

"I could lose my job over this on so many levels. You could too."

Krycek gave a disgusted laugh. "Thanks, Mulder. It's always nice to be an afterthought."

Krycek thrust his hips up and ground himself into Mulder who couldn't help but press back.

"You like it?" Krycek asked, his voice smooth and seductive. He relaxed back on the floor; his hands still in Mulder's grip. "You should. You've been bumping into me every chance you got for the last four months. I don't know how many times after one of our _meetings_ where you'd stand over me and give me the old full body press while we were reading something, that I had to go in the can and jerk off."

The thought of Krycek being as aroused as Mulder had often been, sent a jolt through him.

Krycek laughed again. "Guess I should have checked the stalls. I wasn't the only one jerking off, huh? If I'd known Mulder I..."

"Is that why you asked yourself over, for sex?"

The mocking smile disappeared, and for the first time, Krycek looked away. "I asked myself over because I'm you're partner, goddamn it. Senior Agent Mulder, my supposed superior Mulder, you treat me like some spaz from the mailroom. I thought if we could hang out maybe you'd finally see me, respect me."

Mulder saw the pain in Krycek's face as he turned back to look at him. His expression was sad, but still hopeful.

Mulder wanted to tell him not to take it personally. It wasn't just him. He treated everyone as if they were an inconvenience in his life. He'd even started out with Scully the same way. But he'd never straddled Scully, pinning her to the floor and wanting so much to have her lips pressed to his. The kid was right. It was personal.

"It's hard for me to trust people," Mulder offered.

"You trust me enough to play bump and grind with me in the elevator. 'Oh here, Alex let me reach right across your dick and push the floor we want.' Or did you think I was just too stupid or straight to figure out what you were doing?"

"I haven't been fair with you," Mulder conceded. "I was angry that they split us, Scully and me, up."

"So you took it out on me?" Krycek challenged.

"I didn't say I was proud of it. I have a lot of faults. Is that what you want to hear, that I've been self-centered and childish and a bad partner to you?"

"I know all that shit." Krycek smiled again, a scoffing glee lighting his eyes. "I want to know why you have a steel hard boner, and why you still have me pinned to the floor?"

Mulder gave himself a mental shake. He was still holding Krycek down and oh God he was still so hard. He leaned close to the other man, almost kissing him, and garnered a small gasp for his trouble.

"This changes everything," he warned.

Krycek closed his eyes and rubbed himself against Mulder's hardness. 

"It makes it better," he replied in a smoky whisper. "But tell me. Tell me why you want me."

Mulder darted his tongue out to outline the perfect bow of Krycek's upper lip.

"Because." The tip of his tongue made contact with Krycek's. Mulder probed and slid a kiss over the kid's luscious mouth. He broke away panting and nibbled at the corners of Krycek's mouth as he moved under him. "Because you're a stone cold bitch." He brushed a kiss across Krycek's lips as they moved into a smile. "And you are so fucking hot!"

"Fox," Krycek moaned over and over as Mulder sprinkled kisses covering his face, brushing his open mouth over the taut jaw line and along the younger man's sensitive neck.

"What do you want?" Mulder answered each time Krycek said his name. Finally, he found his voice and the answer surprised Mulder.

"Make me give up," Krycek said in a sultry whisper. His eyes, dark with arousal, flickered shut for a moment as if he were giving away a secret.

"You like to be submissive?" Mulder asked, suddenly wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

Krycek struggled at the question, just enough to make Mulder uncertain whether this was a game or not.

"I like to be overpowered," Krycek told him, his words coming in gasps as he ground up into Mulder's own hardness. "I'm a big guy. I respect the strength it takes to bring me down."

"I didn't use strength." Mulder stated the obvious but the idea of this powerful, aroused kid at his mercy was more than he could resist 

Mulder secured both of Krycek's hands in one of his. His free hand went immediately to the front of the other man's shorts and began to tease over the growing bulge.  
Krycek tossed his head; eyes squeezed shut as he fought the titillation.

"Fox!" He nearly laughed as the fingers that tormented him found a particularly sensitive spot.  
"You keep doing..." He broke off trying to regain control. "I'm going to come and you're not going to have anyone to play with," he blurted out before he bit his lip.

Mulder lessened the torment for a moment, but didn't stop.

"What's the reward if I make you give up?"

Krycek gave an incredulous laugh. "You win."

"I win what? I need a prize, not just you saying uncle."

Mulder dug his fingers into a spot that made Krycek jump and threaten he would break free to avoid it. Mulder let up again just scratching over the seam in the front of the light cotton shorts, teasing the erection that twitched and jumped under his touch.

"A blowjob," Krycek panted out after he caught his breath. "You make me give up; I'll give you a primo blowjob."

"Okay," Mulder said as he admired how scratching one particular spot near the outline of the head actually made Krycek shiver. "We sixty-nine, and I stroke you while you blow me, but you can't come till I say you can."

"Fucking sadist." Krycek laughed.

"You're the one who said he liked to be around me."

"Can't make me give up," Krycek cooed the words like other people flirted during a seduction.

Mulder felt his erection jump at the raw sex in the kid's voice. A warning went off in his head. Back off. It wasn't too late to stop. He risked everything giving into his attraction for this kid who was probably only here because he didn't have a date. 

Krycek arched into Mulder's hand as it lay unmoving over his straining erection.

  
"You're not as strong as I am," Krycek continued with his sexy taunt.

The warning went quiet. "I don't need strength, you do." He released Krycek's hands and snagged a pillow from the couch. Mulder pushed it under the other man's butt.

"Spread your arms out."

"What are you going to do?" Krycek asked but wouldn't do as he was told.

"I'm going to overpower you." Mulder was pleased by the flush that colored Krycek's face.

Slowly, Krycek spread his hands out. But the moment he had, his head came up, and he looked questioningly at Mulder.

"What are you going to do, just tickle me?"

"I told you. I'm going to overpower you with sensation. Although, there are studies that some men find that particular stimulus so erotic they can reach ejaculation by that sensory means alone."

Krycek shook his head. "God, Mulder! You can make the sexiest fucking stuff sound so damn clinical. Ahhh!"

Krycek jerked as Mulder ran a hand up each of his legs and inside the shorts.

"Keep your arms out flat or you lose. And just tell me when you need to give up."

Krycek lasted a good five minutes. Mulder thought he had him a couple of times, but the kid was tough, and fought through several teases that made his skin twitch involuntarily. There was no mistaking when Mulder finally had him. It was a spot on the inside of his thighs along the leg of his briefs. Once Mulder had found one spot he traced his fingers in the opposite direction on the other leg causing nerves and sensation to fire in counterpoint to each other. Krycek held on for another minute, till his breath was coming in ragged gasps that barely disguised the laugh he struggled to contain.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Alex." Mulder watched as his words caused Krycek to bite his lip.  
"I can do this for hours. Can you stand it that long?"

The truth was that they were both sweating, and Mulder was certain that he was going to die if he got any harder. Worse, he seemed to be growing more rigid with each moan or stifled laugh from Krycek.

His touch grew lighter letting each brush of his fingers startle more sensation from the over-stimulated skin. Krycek finally broke when Mulder made tiny circles on one leg while making zigzagging little strokes on the other leg with his fingertips.

Krycek curled into a ball and thrust Mulder's hands aside. His own hands went inside his shorts to scratch away the remaining sensation.

After a moment he straightened and smiled up at Mulder. His heavy lidded eyes gleamed with wanton need. Krycek reached out and grabbed the bottom of Mulder's T-shirt pulling it up.

"You're good at this." His voice was husky as he pulled the T-shirt over Mulder's head. "If I didn't know you never had to worry about money, I would have bet you worked your way through college as a Master."

"I did my graduate work in England." Mulder didn't explain further but pulled off Krycek's shirt and tank top. The body underneath was lean and muscular, not what he'd expected. A runner of hair shot up from his groin, but otherwise Krycek's skin was smooth, and his muscular body was as perfect as anyone pictured in the best sex magazines Mulder owned.

Krycek unzipped Mulder's pants and pulled them off his hips.

Mulder scratched his fingers lightly over the rise of Krycek's hipbone, eliciting a little shudder from the younger man.

"How do you know about this sort of thing?" Mulder asked.

Krycek had Mulder's pants down to his knees and was pulling off his briefs.

"It's a hobby," he said, his explanation as vague as Mulder's. "Take off your pants."

Mulder pulled his jeans the rest of the way off. He pushed the coffee table further away, giving them more room on the floor. He pulled off Krycek's shorts and tossed them aside but left the ribbed tan briefs on.

Krycek started to pull off the underwear, but Mulder caught his hands. A wicked smile moved his lips.

"Leave the briefs."

Krycek bit his lip again and reached for Mulder's stiff cock. The silky glide of his fingers along the shaft made the other man shudder.

"You a wrestling fan now, Mulder?"

Mulder settled himself on the floor beside Krycek, head to cock.

"I'm a fan of yours." He gasped as Krycek touched Mulder's gland to his lips.

Krycek teased and stroked the hard length of Mulder with expert ability. His warm breath sent shudders through Mulder, and all but made him forget about the torment he'd planned for Krycek.

After the initial rush of sensation from the soft lips, Mulder took a deep breath and tried to mentally step away from the exquisite sexual touch. 

Krycek's ample package was at eye-level, straining for release from the ribbed cotton briefs. Mulder ran a finger over the other man's balls, his touch traced over the thin material. The cock gave a satisfying twitch as he ministered to the heavy balls. Krycek bucked a little at the tease, and moved his legs away.

Mulder grabbed him and pulled him close, burying his face in the heated groin.

Krycek did the same, trapping Mulder's legs in the circle of his arms. He licked and moaned tiny vibrations along Mulder's bare skin. Krycek found the spot at the crease between hip and thigh that he had found so unbearable. He slowly dragged his tongue along the responsive skin till Mulder jerked and gasped. The gasp only served to flood his genitals with a burst of warm stimulating breath. Everything he did to pull a reaction from Mulder resulted in some equal tease. They were caught in each other's erotic torment.

Mulder put his open mouth to the hard cock hidden under the tan fabric. He blew a tingling warmth over the organ that made it buck to get free.

Krycek licked and sucked at Mulder's engorged cock, his tongue always returning to the sweet spot just below the head. He knew Mulder was holding back. The thought that Mulder was struggling not to come just as Krycek was doing threatened to push him over the edge.

Each man did things they knew would make the other crazy, fingertips tracing over the backs of legs while mouths and hands nurtured the other's hard-on. Each one fought against the pleasure. Mulder to prolong the tease he visited on the younger man as a payback for his smart mouth, and Krycek to prove Mulder couldn't overpower him again.

Krycek finally found a rhythm that made Mulder moan and buck with each slide of his mouth. He worked his tongue over the silky hardness and rolled the substantial balls between his fingers.

"Alex." The name came faintly at first but grew and was repeated as the pleasure jerked from Mulder till "Oh my God, Alex," crescendoed from his lips as he climaxed.

After a few moments of silence between them Krycek reached for the beer on the coffee table. He swallowed a long draught, cleansing his mouth. He put the bottle back and smiled at Mulder. 

"Just Alex, will do," he teased as he rubbed himself against Mulder's unmoving hand.

Mulder looked up at him and smiled as well. 

"You want something, God-Alex? And that was a pretty damn God-like blow job." He squeezed gently at the hardness under the briefs. 

"Yeah, I want something." His voice threatened to break as Mulder toyed with him. "How about you make me scream _your_ name."

Mulder began to slide Krycek's briefs off but the other man stopped him.

"Like you said." Krycek's voice was thick and sweet with arousal. "Leave the briefs. Make me come in them like I nearly do when I'm around you at work."

Mulder sat up and pulled Krycek up into a kiss. His hand went to the heat between the other man's legs. He broke the kiss and placed his lips next to Krycek's ear.

"What do you think about when we're at work?" he asked in a tantalizing whisper. "Do you imagine me bending you over the desk, riding you till we both come? Or is it just you, alone, that becomes all hot and out of control?

Mulder slowly inched his fingers inside the waistband of the briefs. He combed through the soft pubic hair and Krycek shuddered against him.

"Or maybe we're in the copy room on the fifth floor, the one in the back. We need to copy some files and you go over to the machine and start." His hand grasped Krycek's hardness and pulled it towards him so that just the head peeked over the waistband of the underwear. "I close the door and come up behind you. I unzip your pants and take out your cock."

Krycek moaned as the images combined with the strokes Mulder administered.

"But you can't make any noise," Mulder admonished. "The walls are paper-thin. You have to just take it and hope the sound of the copier chugging along will cover any cries you can't hold in." Mulder tightened his grip and started a piston rhythm that made Krycek press his head against Mulder's shoulder.

"I stroke you and tease you and tell you how fucking gorgeous you are. And you don't know if I'm in a good mood and will let you come, or if I'm feeling mean and will bring you to the edge and walk out with the files you copied."

Mulder felt the vibration of the moan Krycek let out against his shoulder.

"Then how would you get out of the copy room and back to our office with that healthy boner sticking out? But I'm feeling generous today."

Mulder kissed his way down Krycek's neck to his chest.

"Come for me Alex," Mulder coaxed before he licked then sucked at a nipple.

Krycek put his fist to his mouth to stop the cry this act tore from him.

"Come on baby, give it up," Mulder teased as he continued the firm strokes along the cock that now tensed and jumped in his grip. "I've wanted this as bad as you have."

The admission drew a low moan that Krycek couldn't contain. He rocked against Mulder as he spilled over Mulder's hand with a whispered chant, "Fox! Ahhh, Fox! Fox!"

Mulder stopped when the last of the tremors left Krycek. He wrapped an arm around him and gave the younger man's balls an affectionate squeeze before he moved his hand away.

"Mulder," Krycek's voice was a spent whisper, "you are so fucking good."

"As good as you thought?" Mulder joked.

"Better." Krycek turned his face to look at him and the smoky green eyes threatened to burn through him.

Mulder's stomach growled and broke the spell.

Krycek ran his hand over the back of Mulder's head.

"You hungry? You didn't eat anything earlier?"

Mulder laughed, and returned the gesture gently running his fingers through Krycek's hair.

"I'm always hungry when I'm around you, partner.

* * *

Title: Tag Team   
Author: Lefey   
Fandom: x-files  
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek  
Rating: nc-17 m/m sex and coarse language  
Status: complete  
Archive: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey  
Feedback: Please. [email removed] or please post feedback to terma  
Series: none  
Disclaimer: They belong to chris carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television Network  
Summary: Post Sleepless but pre-Duane Barry I have taken artisic liscense and have the two working together for about four months. Young Alex comes over on a Friday night to spend some time with Fox and... You know, slash happens!   
  
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